


Better Than a Lullaby

by paperwar



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: Asian Character, Blow Jobs, Chromatic Character, Chromatic Source, Consent, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-19
Updated: 2010-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperwar/pseuds/paperwar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mihashi learns about the soporific power of orgasm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than a Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roeycleine (2pork)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/2pork/gifts).



> Anime canon, some point after the end of the second season.

It could've been a quiet afternoon, glorious sunny hours spent both with the latest baseball magazines and the target in his backyard. Including frequent breaks to gorge on the snacks that his mother stocks up on every week, of course. He probably would've ended up collapsed into a nap at some point, another fine activity: Mihashi will take sleep wherever he can find it, these days.

What he gets instead of this ideal Saturday is Hanai, Abe, and Tajima. A history test looms. Between Abe's furious micromanagement and Hanai's more restrained nagging, neither of the two dunces of the team really have any choice as to what they're going to do with their afternoon.

Despite regret for his vanished day of leisure, Mihashi's pleased to have company, even if it is to study. Having teammates -- he isn't sure, still, if he dares call them friends -- over to his house? The thrill hasn't worn off.

The study session proceeds as usual: caustic comments, and fumbling retractions, from Abe. Hanai attempting to keep everyone focused while wrestling with his own temper. Tajima ready to seize any opportunity for distraction. And Mihashi struggling to keep up, hoping to minimize how many times Abe yells at him.

Far too much time passes before Hanai and Abe declare themselves if not satisfied, then at least willing to stop for the day. Hanai has some special dinner with visiting relatives that night, and even Abe admits Mihashi and Tajima just might squeak by on the exam. Both of them leave in a hurry, Abe with a trail of exhortations to Mihashi regarding his eating, study, and rest patterns. Mihashi could recite them in his sleep by now -- that is, if he ever got any sleep these days -- but there's something comforting about Abe's cranky litany.

Tajima throws himself backwards on Mihashi's bed with a sigh. "I thought we'd never get them to stop," he complains, flinging his arms above his head and twisting his hips to stretch each side of his back.

Mihashi edges himself down at the foot of the bed, drooping. He's fuzzy-headed, more so than usual after a befuddling few hours with his textbooks. He wouldn't mind if Tajima just went home too.

"You're tired, huh?" asks Tajima, propping himself up on his elbows and peering at him.

Mihashi stares for a moment before realizing it's a question. He manages a faint bob of his head.

Tajima yawns and slouches back against the headboard. "Yeah, I thought so. You seem like it."

"I'm... n-not..." Mihashi trails off, eyes half-closed; it's too much effort to keep them open. It's definitely beyond him to explain why he's stressed. That moving into a new kind of battery relationship, one where he takes on not only some responsibility and autonomy but also, potentially, some of the blame, is terrifying and wonderful and exhausting. Slogging his way through schoolwork saps energy he could be spending honing his pitching. It's frustrating. So, yes: he's tired, but his brain runs quick and nervous through the night anyway.

"You're not sleeping?" Tajima guesses when Mihashi fails to complete his sentence, and when Tajima receives a half-nod of confirmation, he brightens. "I can help with that!" he says.

"You can?"

Tajima sits up and wriggles close to Mihashi, their hips touching. "Absolutely! I never have trouble sleeping. Do you know why? Because I have lots of orgasms!"

Mihashi slumps, disappointed -- it's only more of the sort of thing Tajima is always rattling on about. He's exhausted. Why doesn't Tajima just go away?

Tajima narrows his eyes, takes a deep breath, and says, "You know, it's because they make you sleepy. You know... right? Orgasms, Mihashi, yes... ?"

Mihashi's confusion must be visible, because Tajima for once is wordless, mouth opening and shutting in silence. Tajima shakes himself, as if to dispel a nightmare, and says very seriously, "Listen, you want to sleep better, right?"

In response, the tiniest of nods.

"Like right now? Maybe it would help if you had a nice long nap today?"

Another weary nod.

Tajima exhales in one sharp burst. "As long as it helps Mihashi," he mutters. "I'll explain to Abe later. If he even finds out."

He aims his most engaging smile at Mihashi and declares, "Okay. I can help! But you have to trust me. Don't worry, just trust me, okay, Mihashi?"

Mihashi cringes, then settles his shoulders and meets Tajima's gaze. "Okay."

"Just relax and let me help you," Tajima soothes as he leans in and covers Mihashi's lips -- chapped, of course -- with his own. Mihashi freezes.

Tajima pulls back, waiting for a reaction.

The room is both too small and too big to Mihashi. He wants to scuttle away under his bed; he wants there to be nowhere else to go. His hip feels inflamed, a line of heat where it's pressed against Tajima.

"How was that?" Tajima asks.

_Here_, Mihashi thinks, _something else is changing._ The team, Abe-kun, his pitching: all steps along a road he never thought he would walk. He's changing. His world is changing. Whether he wants it to or not -- and sometimes he still isn't sure -- it is. And there's something else here for him to walk forward into. Not alone. Never alone again, he hopes. Just like he's part of a team on the diamond, at last (something he can hardly believe, even still), he's not alone here. He doesn't know where he's going, but at least it's not by himself.

He could stop, he realizes. It's an astonishing thought. He could refuse. Tajima would probably try to talk him out of it, but Mihashi isn't scared. Abe-kun tells him what to pitch, but he can choose to pitch something else. In fact, sometimes it'll work better that way. And he can choose here.

He offers a dip of the head, so miniscule it's almost nonexistent, but Tajima catches it.

"I'm pretty good, huh? Just wait, there's more where that came from!" Tajima laughs, usual confidence ablaze. And he dives in for another kiss, this time wrapping one arm around Mihashi's shoulders and sending his other hand sliding down the pitcher's chest. Mihashi tenses but allows Tajima to stroke his stomach under his shirt.

Tajima eases him down flat on the bed and stretches out alongside him. "Relax," he says. "You're going to feel great, I promise! And then you'll have a really good nap." Mihashi squeezes his eyes shut, and Tajima, taking that as acquiescence, tugs down his pants and underwear. He holds Mihashi's cock for a moment, letting the other boy get used to the contact, and feels it harden.

Then he starts moving his hand, slow. Mihashi can feel Tajima's calluses along skin that's never been so lit up with nerve endings before.

"Doesn't that feel good, Mihashi?" Tajima asks. The answer is so obvious that Tajima can't possibly have to ask, so Mihashi says nothing, mouth full of all the words he's not quite lost enough to say: _yes, yes, please, I don't know what this is but please don't stop._

Tajima removes his hand -- Mihashi gives one shudder as he does -- and says, "Tell me if you want me to stop, okay? I promise I'll stop as soon as you say so, all right?"

He waits. Mihashi peels his eyes open, like someone unused to the action. Without looking at Tajima, he whispers, "I'll tell you." His stomach churns with relief that he's been able to make a choice and get the words out, but also with nerves, because he still doesn't understand what's going on or how he got here. What he wants to happen next? That's something he can't figure out either. He snaps his eyes shut again, leaving it up to Tajima.

Tajima brings his face close and licks Mihashi's bottom lip, eliciting a shiver. His breaths are so shallow Tajima can barely sense them as he lets his hand return to Mihashi's dick. Mihashi arches into the touch tentatively, almost as if he isn't sure it's allowed.

"See, you know how to do this already," Tajima says. Mihashi can feel his breath hot and sweet against his lips, and he pushes his pelvis forward again, his stiff cock sliding through Tajima's fingers.

"Just wait," Tajima whispers in his ear, "it gets even better." He slides down Mihashi's chest and settles in between his legs, saying, "Let yourself feel it. Just relax. I've got you here. Just let it all go, okay?"

Mihashi has a blurry moment in which to contemplate what, exactly, Tajima means. But then Tajima's mouth is on him and coherent thought vanishes. Mihashi's never felt this before, never even imagined it, and yet somehow he still knows exactly what to do, how to fit the rocking of his hips to the motions of Tajima's mouth.

He seems to be losing control of his own mouth; it's producing sounds that he's never made before. He's embarrassed, for a second, before Tajima's exhortation pops into his mind: Relax. Relax. He can do that, right? He can take what's happening here and see where it's going -- where it's going -- oh -- oh -- oh -- _there_.

It's lucky that his parents are out for the afternoon; they definitely would've heard him. But for once, he can't bring himself to fret about the hypothetical.

Sagging into the mattress, he can barely move, barely think, knocked sprawling by that wave of sensation that had been almost too much, and then definitely too much. As it recedes, he's left feeling boneless and warm.

He's asleep almost before Tajima sits up.


End file.
